


The Rough Stuff

by ChocoChipBiscuit



Series: Jinx [10]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/F, Light BDSM, Nipple Clamps, Nipple Play, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 11:47:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5966284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoChipBiscuit/pseuds/ChocoChipBiscuit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The courier's interested in trying some rough and hitty things with a lady she trusts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rough Stuff

**Author's Note:**

> Note: fic emphasis is F/F but main character is bi and mentions previous sexual encounters with men. Fair warning if that's not your cuppa.

Jinx walks into the Wrangler with her thumbs tucked into her pockets, elbows wide and bouncing every step. Mouth sugar-sticky, cherry-sweet and lips stained red. The artificial taste in her nostrils blocks some of the residual bar-smell of spilled booze and stale vomit. She hops on the stool next to Beatrix, masks the nerves rattling up her throat with a quick grin. “Heya, pretty lady. Buy you a drink, or you working tonight?”

Beatrix chuckles, smoke wafting through her teeth. Switchblade smile and rough edges. The kind of friction that sparks. “I’m working. Can still buy me a drink.” Cocks what’s left of one eyebrow. “Heard you did well off that Zion trip.”

“Yeah! Did real well,” Jinx says, flagging down James Garret. Orders a bottle of Nuka for herself, pushes caps for Beatrix’s sarsaparilla. “Good pay. Real pretty place. Even with the bears and angry tribals and all.”

“See you used some of those caps to redo your ‘do. Stylish.”

Jinx gnaws her lip, puppy-eyed and wriggling in her seat. “You like it? Doc said my hair was red, before I got shot-- figured I’d dye it back again.”

“Looks cute. Like a fluffy fire hydrant.”

Jinx snicker-laughs, turning into a wheezing gasp as bubbles go up her nose. Sputters as Beatrix thumps her back. Crosses her ankles, gulps. Thoughts pinball-ricocheting.  “And. Um. It’s okay to say no, if it’s too weird. Since we’re friends and all. But-- um.” Tongue turned to chewing gum, wadded up on itself.

“Interested in the rough stuff?” Smiles gentle and knowing, creasing the patches of dry scab around her eyes.

“Yeah.” Jinx sips her Nuka, barely wetting her lips. “Just-- um. Hitty things. It’s not like I have a scene in mind, I just want-- I want to experiment with someone I trust. And I figure you know a bunch of stuff, and I could pay you for it, and I could figure out more of the things I like.”

Beatrix stubs her cigarette in the tray, cracked lipstick staining the tip. “I can do that. Anything specific you want to try? There’s a lot of ‘hitty stuff.’”

Blush itchy-crawls its way up her neck, singes her ears. Jinx drums her fingers against her half-empty bottle, nails chiming off the glass. “Spanking?”

“Anything you don’t want?”

“Nothing that’s going to mark me up permanent, you know?” Gnaws her lip, chewing a loose shred of skin. Gulps. “Um. Nothing cutty or sharp. No choking. Nothing over my mouth. And-- I mean, I really like you, but-- um. We’re friends. No genital stuff. Like, no touching junk. That’d be a little too weird for me. Keep both our pants on.”

Beatrix grins, fierce and warm and brilliant. “Fine by me. And I got some rules too.” Stabs out one finger, tapping it against the palm of her other hand. “First off, no scat. No--” Blinks at Jinx, laughs like a creaky hinge. “Hot damn, that never even crossed your mind, did it?” Pats Jinx’s arm, slides up raises a gentle thumb under her jaw to lift it back in place.

Jinx hunkers her head into her arms, leaning against the bar. Brown skin almost a match for the dark wood as she ducks her head, face hot. “Nah, never did. Uh. If it had, I woulda put that on my list of no’s too.”

“No worries. Glad it’s something we agree on.” Skull-faced smile, reminder that the teeth showing are edges of skeleton. “So. No scat. No playing high or drunk. And I only play with safewords. Unless you’d rather just go ‘no’?”

Still staring at the rings of condensation on the counter, Jinx tilts her head. Considers it, wedging a thumbnail under the Nuka label and peeling off a strip of paper. “Um. Yeah, since not planning on roleplaying or anything. So ‘no’ means ‘no.’” Scrunches her brow as the paper rips, rolls the label in on itself. “Just out of curiosity,” she says, voice loose and detached. Heart still hammering in her throat. “What kind of safewords do you usually use?” Tiny rolled-up label’s wet with condensation, sticks to her skin. She scrapes it against the bar.

“I like to use a couple. ‘Red’ for a full stop. ‘Yellow’ to slow down or check in. ‘Green’ for a go-ahead. Makes it easier to tell if it’s going alright than ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ especially if we’re playing out a scene.” Voice gentle, tumbled smooth despite its usual gravel. Patient.

Jinx’s chest surges with gratitude. “Okay. Good to know. Um. Would still rather use ‘no’ or ‘stop’ for now, though. Just-- experimenting. Not full-on playing. Like workshopping! Or sex labbing!”

Beatrix chuckles warm and rough. Scrapes like cat’s-tongue over Jinx’s ear. “Kid, you’re the first person I ever reckon to turn ‘lab’ into a verb.”

“I am a woman of hidden depths and great literary talents,” Jinx says, serenely focused on her soda bottle. Cracks the facade and peeks sideways. “Well, that’s what I like to pretend.”

“A fucking modern-day Shakespeare. Man turned ‘elbow’ into a verb, you know.”

“Mr. Brotch spent too much time trying to censor out the dick jokes so the Overseer wouldn’t get pissed,” Jinx says wistfully. “Only bit of Shakespeare I remember is that Romeo balcony scene. Got stuck on it because I’d never seen the sun outside of photographs, before.”

“Gotten your fair share of sunshine since,” says Beatrix. Slants her gaze towards the stairs, finishing up the last of her sarsaparilla. Question in her eyes.

Jinx nods, chugging the rest of her cola and tapping the bottle to the bar. Burps, covering her mouth. “Um. Okay, ready if you are.”

“Come on, kid. Follow me.” Walks up the stairs, a faint whiff of leather and gunpowder in her wake. Dry and welcoming, sun baked into her skin. Leads Jinx to a simple room. Bed, armless chair, dresser. No other furnishings. A working room, not one for living. “And a word: I like being called ‘ma’am’ for a title. No ‘mistress’ or ‘miz.’”

“Uh-huh. Yes ma’am,” Jinx says, wriggling her toes and shifting her weight. Nerves rattling her teeth. Eyes wide, breathing through her teeth when Beatrix reaches into the dresser and pulls out a glittering chain with square clamps on each end.

Beatrix smiles, a charred caramel sort of burn to her warmth. “Nipple clamps okay? Or…?”

“Uh-- yeah! Sure! Never tried it before, but it’s-- um, okay.” Excitement fizzing now, floating up the back of her throat. Curiously clear-headed, anticipating. “Yeah, I’d like to try that.”

Beatrix pats the bed, mattress too-firm beneath Jinx’s butt when she sits. Small creak, no give. Definitely not one for sleeping on. Crosses her ankles, rolls up her shirt and pulls it overhead. Beatrix stands in front of her, brushes her ragged nails and rough fingers over the bare skin. Traces over the bumps of Jinx’s ribs with a dry rustle. “Don’t like wearing a bra, hm?”

“Small enough it doesn’t matter,” Jinx says flippantly, tossing the shirt aside. Wilts at Beatrix’s raised eyebrow and stern glare. Picks the shirt back up, folds it neatly and lays it flat on the bed. “Man, you’re so bossy,” Jinx groans. Unclasps her Pip-Boy, sets it on top.

Beatrix laughs, scratching behind Jinx’s ear. Jinx flutters her eyes shut, arching into the touch. “Don’t like being told what to do, hm? What a pushy little thing.”

“I like being told what to do! When it’s  _ fun _ .” Jinx pouts, batting her lashes.

“And what’s fun for you?” Beatrix asks. Picks up the clamps, a soft shining sound as she twists a screw, rattling the clamp open.

Jinx gulps, eyeing the clamp. Squeezes her knees together, hands in her lap. “Well, there was this really nice-- um. I like being told to suck or lick someone. Like being told to bend over or bounce on a lap. Which is fun, but. Um. Not what we’re doing.” A guilty surge of heat through her thighs, wet between her legs.

“Sounds like a story. Dirty girl. Tell me about it.” Rough-edged and loving, hand dry and surprisingly warm over Jinx’s breast. More press than squeeze, drawing back to pinch the nipple. Tugs, and Jinx bites her lip to stay still.

“Okay, so… there was this really nice nightkin I met on the way to Jacobstown. He was so big, gosh. I just wanted to climb him, and--!” She yelps, sitting on her hands. “That’s cold!”

“It’ll warm up. Unless you’d rather I stop?” Beatrix asks, poised to remove the clamp.

“Nah, nah. I’m okay.” Shivers as the metal tightens over the nipple, pressure, then painful-- winces, eyes squinting shut, but wriggles her toes. Decides it’s tolerable. Nice sort of weight to it, a jingle of motion as the chain trails across her chest as Beatrix starts pinching the other nipple. “But gosh. So big. Real gentle. I never-- I don’t know, I don’t remember a bunch of stuff from before I got shot. But I’m pretty sure I never tried making out with anyone that big. So he had me on top, told me a lot of what to do. Very nice, very careful.”

“Fuck’s sake, kid. I’m not your mom. Give me the fucking  _ details _ .” Emphasizes with a twist on the nipple, pulling a gasp from Jinx. Sets the clamp flush against the skin, pinching into the soft bud of areola.

“Okay, okay! So it was, uh, nice. He asked if I was okay with rope, tied my hands behind my back. And fuck, his mouth. Big tongue, big licks. Sitting on his face, trying not to fall over. He could pick me up with one hand though, keep me still. Worked his tongue over me ‘til I was jelly-legged and screaming, had to bite a piece of blanket so I wouldn’t wake up Cass.” Wiggles in her seat, goose-prickles up the back of her neck as Beatrix scratches up her spine. “Made me suck his cock after. Had me kneel on the bed while he sat down, and it was just so fucking sloppy. Hard to hold properly without hands, kept bumping and trying not to gag if I went too deep. When he finally let my hands loose, it was so much better.”

“Did he finish in your mouth?” Beatrix skims her fingers down, traces an old scar on Jinx’s hip.

Jinx nods, trembling as the chain rattles over her bare skin. Still sitting on her hands, tracking the lines and passes of Beatrix’s hands. Too rough to be soothing, but comfort in the warm press of skin as Beatrix rubs her shoulders. “Yeah. I swallowed,” she adds with a flush of pride. “Took a couple gulps to get it all. He told me I was a good girl, finger-fucked me for reward.” Wriggles her toes in her boots, a soft scrape against the worn wooden floors.

“Good little slut. Bet you liked swallowing his cum,” Beatrix murmurs, breath hissing over Jinx’s scalp.

Jinx nods, a quick jerk of her chin and fixing her gaze on the floor. Dark knot in the wood, a dusty corner. Whorled edges, serene labyrinth for the eyes. Blocks some of the embarrassment of sharing. “Yeah. I-- I really liked that. Was a lot of fun.”

“Fucked any girls before?” asks Beatrix, patting Jinx’s shoulder and rising to her feet. Hits her boots across the floor, a deliberate heel-toe strike that bounces off the walls. Tugs Jinx to the armless chair.

Jinx drifts behind her, helpless as a balloon. “Um. Yeah, there’s this-- yeah.” Tangle-tongued, mush-mouthed and no resistance as Beatrix sits, pulls Jinx over her lap. Rough press of denim against her bare skin, ass high in the air and Beatrix’s thighs warm and hard. Thin lines of muscle, no fat to her. “Yeah. We-- she was so nice. I ate her out and really loved the way she grabbed my hair, my ears, squeezed around my head and it was just--” An indistinct whine as Beatrix pats her ass, low on the curve where it merges into thigh. “So good.”

“Bet you were a real good girl for her too,” Beatrix chuckles, cupping and squeezing. Lifting, then tiny pats of her fingers. Like testing a drum. “Bet you like being told what to do as long as it’s not folding clothes.”

“Well, yeah. Laundry is  _ boring _ .”

“What a brat. Good thing you’re so damn cute.”

Jinx giggles, gasps as the chain dangles loose. Dancing in gravity, pulling at her tits. “It’s a gift.” Wriggles her arms, figuring out balance. Fingertips on the floor, tickling through the grit.

“Going to start you off slow. Tell me how much it hurts, or if you like it.” One last pat, gentle as a kiss, before pulling back her arm. Twist of her torso, muscles working against Jinx’s side. Other hand resting on Jinx’s back, below the shoulder blades.

Jinx bites her lip, hums soft. Frisson of impact, her jeans dampening the blow. Giggles, light-headed and giddy. “Can take a little harder.”

“Figured. This is just the warm-up, kid.” Another hit, same strength. Smack that fills the room, brings Jinx’s heartbeat to her ears. Another. “Count them for me.”

“Okay. That was one.” Hisses at the next slap. “Two. Three--” And there’s something soothing in the monotony, the discomfort without pain. Trust. Counts to ten, cheeks warm on both ends. Blood pulled to the skin, clit tingling. Shifts her hips, trying not to grind against Beatrix’s leg.

Beatrix chuckles, bumps her thigh up. Spills Jinx forward, but the ghoul catches her with one hand. “Wriggly thing. Stop squirming, or I’m going to hit you places you might not like.”

“How do you punish someone who likes getting spanked?” Jinx shoots back, adding another impudent wiggle.

“By making her kneel in the corner and hold her ears until she’s had time to think about her actions,” growls Beatrix. “Not gonna hurt you, but ain’t gonna be fun.” Grips tight on Jinx’s thigh, a bruising crush. Releases at Jinx’s gasp.

“Fine, message loud and clear, ma’am.” Jinx peeks up, neck cricked. Awkward angle, so she drops it quick. “I bet it’s great for a corner, but corners are boring.”

“Yes they are. Now going to start spanking you for real, so watch your tongue.” Smacks harder, rocking Jinx on her lap. Jinx squeaks, pushes her fingers to the ground to brace herself. “Too hard?”

“Nah, nah. Just caught me off-guard,” Jinx whispers, words sticky off her tongue. “Liked that.”

“How much did that hurt? Scale of one to ten.”

“Um. Two? Three?” Scrunches her nose, considering. “Tolerable.”

“And how high do you want to go?”

“Seven, maybe eight. Not for every hit!” Jinx hastens to add. “Like, upper range.”

“Keep telling me the pain ranking then. I’m going to work you over.” Peppers her speech with more spanks, pops and smacks that fill the room. Echoes in the space, fills Jinx’s ears. Easy to sink in the moment, heat and skin and pain. Moving-- up, down. Sides. Beatrix stays mostly on the swell of the ass, works a little higher and lower, smacks the upper thighs. Warm, tingling, skin heating. Tender, tender.

Calling out numbers keeps Jinx from sinking too deep. Good place though. Sensation. Focus. Contracts her world to this small room, her gasps and breath. Wood varnish and old leather, dust in the air. Rooted in this moment, alive in her skin. Limbs loose. Even the nipple clamps a distant thing, no longer uncomfortable. Pretty jingle of the chain as she sighs, moans. Trust, trust. The occasional burn, a hard smack that stings all the harder for the gentler blows preceding it. But Beatrix won’t hurt her, any more than Jinx wants her to. And that hits her something soppy in the heart, agave-sticky and aloe-soft.

Mouth wet, words a mumble. Beatrix stops, strokes her back. Pets her like a stray pup, a rough kind of love.

“Talk to me. You’re getting awful quiet.”

Jinx grimaces, opens her lips. Stretches, a yawn without breath. “Yeah. Feels good. This is about a four, sometimes six?”

“Still enjoying it, or am I boring you, kid? Starting to feel like you’re drifting off.”

“I am, but not sleeping. It’s,” and Jinx pauses, rolling the word around her mouth like a hard-boiled sweet, tasting the nuances, “relaxing, though. Like it turns off all the stupid things I normally worry about.”

“Don’t want you to sink that deep, kid. You alright if we take a break? Can take those clamps off.”

“Yuh-huh. Sure.” Jinx wobbles back, a hand on Beatrix’s shoulder as she rises to her feet. Loose-limbed, wobbly. Like her bones got turned to strawberry jelly. Even the metal clamps are warm, warm, warm. Skin-warm and lovely, and she sighs as Beatrix removes them. Slow twist, metal-on-metal as Beatrix sets the clamps aside. A gentle tingle, nipples still hard and puffy.

Not so bad until Beatrix pinches. Screaming, throbbing agony, Jinx jerking forward and howling in shock.

Beatrix laughs dark and evil, teeth bared in a death’s-head grin. “So how was that? Seven? What if I twist?” Wriggles her fingers menacingly.

“Oh fuck. I-- shit, I  _ really _ liked that. Didn’t know how much I’d like that,” Jinx groans. Nipples aching, two flares of sensation and clit thumping to match her heartbeat. “Seven.”

“Gets better if the clamps are on longer. Or if I rip ‘em off. Could try that another time.” Grins, kisses the top of Jinx’s head. “Come on, walk back to the bed. Let’s make sure your legs are still working.” Holds out her arm, gentle escort as Jinx wobble-knees her way back to the too-hard mattress. Sore, sore, sore against her ass. Beatrix sits next to her, thigh flush with hers, an arm loose around her shoulders. Weight grounding her to the bed. Breathes sarsaparilla when Beatrix’s cheek brushes hers. “Come on, kid. Stay with me. Want you to touch your nipples. See what feels good.”

“Hurts,” says Jinx. Obeys anyway. Pinches her nipples between thumb and forefinger, fingertips warm. Stabs and prickles as she rolls the nipple over the callused pad of her trigger-finger.

“But it’s a good kind of hurt, yeah?”

“Yes ma’am.” Bites her lip, dares to pinch harder. Scrape of breath, belly tight. Holds it in her lungs, biting down a gulp as she holds firm.

“Good girl. Now twist.”

“I think you just want to see me twist my nipples,” Jinx mutters, daring a sideways bump into Beatrix’s hip.

Beatrix bumps back, all bone and muscle. Tips Jinx sideways, tugs her upright again. “Nothing wrong with that, I think. You’ve got cute tits.” Grins broad, kisses behind Jinx’s ear. “And I like nipple torture. Can make a grown man cry, with the right tools.”

“Good thing I’m not a grown man.”

“Shut up, you.” Swats her shoulder, chuckling. “If you don’t want to, that’s fine. But I’ll sweeten the deal. If you do, if you can hold it for a ten-count, I’ll spank you so good you’ll be wordless and sleepy. And I’ll wrap you up in a blanket, get you another Nuka, and you can nap it off.”

Jinx rolls her eyes, biting her tongue between her teeth and smiling. “Ooh, bribery.”

“I aim to please.” A cracked-glass grin, sharp and glittering.

“How about seven-count, not ten?”

Beatrix promptly says, “Sure,” sending Jinx into waves of giggles.

“I think I should have bargained lower.”

“Too late, stuck at seven.”

“So mean,” Jinx mutters. Takes a deep breath, holds it inside. Twists, tiny tug and pull. Already throbbing.

Beatrix brushes Jinx’s scalp with dry lips, humming agreement. “Come on, more of a twist than that. One, two…”

Jinx tenses her calves, bites her lip. Twists harder-- hot yank, nipples pulled taut. Funny look, a stretch and flex she’s not used to seeing on her own skin. Surprisingly elastic, bubbles queasy through her stomach. “Four.” Easier when she closes her eyes, keeps her teeth even and tries breathing through her nose. “Five.” Time ticks slow and endless between the numbers. “Six.” Uneven tremors, struggles not to hyperventilate. Rattles her lungs, her throat. Poor nipples swollen, aching. 

At “seven,” Jinx drops her hands. Whimpers. Doesn’t even dare massage her breasts for comfort.

“What a good girl,” says Beatrix. “Come on, lie across my lap. I’m going to keep going until you cry mercy. Or until you can’t answer when I check in, okay?”

Jinx nods, propping her chin on her hands. Nipples chafe against the blanket, but okay as long as she doesn’t move too much. Breathes out through her mouth, lets herself sink deep as Beatrix starts an even rhythm of spanking. Hard, harder-- back down again, smacks even. Up, down, down. Gentle pattern, one cheek and then the other.

The peace comes over her like water, like sinking into a tub. Warm, comfortable. All sensation, body relaxed. Breathe in, out. Out. Last of her reserves. Thoughts loose and liquid. Washes through her, melts away concerns. Big sun-drenched world’s nothing to this little slice of space and time. Air thick with leather, gunpowder and grit. Faint clink of distant bottles and the jukebox wafting up the stairs, but for all that this room is  _ her _ space, her little pocket of peace. Just Beatrix, striking smooth and sweet and steady. Brighter flares as she hits harder, deeper. Crying into the mattress-- and when did she start crying?-- and hiccuping, shoulders heaving and oh, and oh Beatrix picks her up gentle, kisses her forehead and murmurs, “Sh, sh. You did good, real good kid. So good. How are you feeling? Was that too much?”

Tongue wet, clumsy. Too big for her mouth, or maybe it’s the water inside her making everything soft. Jinx shakes her head, snuggles under Beatrix’s shoulder as Beatrix wraps the blanket around her and blots her cheeks. Little tent of warmth, blanket dusty-sweet with unfamiliar detergent. Warm, warm. Jinx is drowning in warmth, wants to breathe it into her blood and lungs. Fill up the empty chambers of her heart. Wants to wallow in it, never leave. Never go cold, never go lonely.

“Want a drink, kid? I can grab another Nuka from downstairs--”

Jinx shakes her head, gripping Beatrix’s wrist. Hiccups. Shakes her head again.

Loses track of time. Beatrix rocks with her, pets her hair, her neck. Jukebox goes through a couple more songs, but Jinx tunes in, out. Dozing, maybe. Comes back to herself nice and slow, thighs sticky. Sated. A type of peace, climax without orgasm.

“How are you feeling?” Beatrix asks again.

Jinx swallows. Tastes the edges of her mouth. “Good. Real good.”

“If you ever need advice, feel free to ask. Doesn’t have to be another session. Can at least pass on what to tell any of your lovers, if you want to play rough with them.”

“Yeah, I’d like that. Liked this.” Smiles without shyness. Too exposed to hold any back. “Thanks.”

Beatrix chuckles, pinches her cheek before plucking the shirt. Tumbles the Pip-Boy off, dresses Jinx like a doll. Slides Jinx’s arms through her shirt-sleeves one at a time, adjusts the cuffs. “Any time, kid.”


End file.
